


Meaningless

by Luminaryquitecontrary



Category: Etrian Odyssey - Fandom, Etrian Odyssey Nexus
Genre: Major spoilers for Nexus, Other, based on the ending credits which implies the npcs form their own party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:22:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminaryquitecontrary/pseuds/Luminaryquitecontrary
Summary: ...It was too late to feel regret now.





	Meaningless

**Author's Note:**

> This has MAJOR spoilers for Etrian Odyssey Nexus (up to the final labyrinth).  
> It's not too good but I'm soft.

...  
It was too late to feel regret now.  
Tracing the dents in his armor, Blót mindlessly continued to wander the ancient halls he had fallen into.  
It didn't matter how many days passed, or even if it had been weeks.  
 _He_ had failed regardless, countless years of planning, research, and the slow destruction of the hero's sense of self had been for nothing.  
 _What a waste_.  
While the origin of his misery was gone, it's not as if that had helped in the least bit to ease the growing strain on his heart. Feelings he didn't know he was still capable of threatened to tear at him until he was just as hopeless as he was all those years ago.  
Faint memories of a man and woman occasionally came to mind as he walked. Meaningless parts of the past that he had since denounced as part of him.  
 _“They didn't bother staying to take care of their own children. What reason do we have to grieve them?”_  
A bitter laugh escaped him.  
How funny, that in the end he would be the last surviving member of his sad “family”.  
 _It should have been me…_  
It should have been him.  
He was a vessel for somebody else's dreams. An empty shell.  
He didn't even remember his own name. Truly he lived up to the meaningful title of “Sacrifice” bestowed upon both of them by his brother.  
That's what they had become. Sacrifices, meaningless drops in an ocean of chaos. Unable to make change of their own, only adding to the meaningless havoc.

_Meaningless_.

The word echoed in Blót's mind as he turned a corner, whether or not he had been this way before mattered little.  
It was meaningless.  
Just like him.

Though it would have done him well to sit down for a moment, there was no point, he would walk until his legs gave out.  
And when that happened he would drag himself until his arms failed him as well.  
Then he would die, a meaningless death.   
It was a solid plan, much less risky than trying to find his way out.  
...There was no reason to leave. This would be his final resting place.  
  
_“...I hope you'll think things over…”_  
Blót stopped walking. Another laugh escaped him.  
 _Would it have been so bad to have kept that promise?_  
...Yes. It would have.   
The hero absently pulled at his scarf, his only meaningful possession.  
Somebody like him didn't deserve “friendship”, especially not from somebody like _him._  
...He shook his head, and began to walk again.  
That kid deserved better than a meaningless shell who could only lie and make meaningful promises that he ultimately could not keep.  
Nevermind the act of reviving Jormungandr, taking control of people to see _his_ plan to fruition.  
 _That kid deserves better…_  
But...he had friends, a home to go to.  
If Blót could find it in him to care, he may have been jealous.  
But ultimately, he could not, and he was undeserving of whatever kindness the kid could offer him.

_Ha...ha…_

A few steps forward suddenly led him to a wider room in the labyrinth. He could have sworn he heard somebody speaking.  
...Had he been down here so long that he had begun to hallucinate? Nobody else could have made it down here...not….

“...Y-You!”  
A young girl's voice interrupted his thoughts, the sound of heavy armor and the spear suddenly pointed at his throat was a sharp contrast to the dead look in the hero's eyes.  
“Hmph….So he's still alive?”  
“I-I...I think so...but...what do we do?”  
A timid medic and a short boy bearing a dark expression stood behind her.  
Blót counted them. With five adventurers, all of which loyal to the princess of Maginia, there was a good chance they could kill him here and now.

“Well, what will you all do?” The hero's voice darkened as his expression warped into a cold smile.  
“Well obviously we'll stop you! We're going to make you pay for what you did to the princess!”  
“...Charis! Don't be an idiot!” The short boy grabbed Charis by the shoulder and tried to pull her back.  
 _...He's scared._  
“W-We don't want to fight you…”

“You don't? Fine then.” Blót quickly turned his back to the party. “...I doubt you'll find anything of worth here.”

He calmly began to walk off. His face returning to it's normal, dead stare as he did.   
He could have sworn he heard footsteps behind him. But he had blocked out the sound of the small adventuring party, his focus switched to a far spot on the wall.  
Anything to keep them from trying to drag him back.

The feeling of something crashing into him from behind briefly returned his focus to the group, his hand moving to the sword secured at his waist.  
 _...My arm…_  
His arm felt as if it were being held in place…  
As he attempted to wrench his arm free, the grip on it tightened.  
A quiet voice, mumbled something.  
Blót held back a third laugh, knowing well who had grabbed him.

“...You…”   
The harbinger, Leo's grip grew tighter.  
“I thought you died…”  
Something inside of Blót seemed to click, as a small smile crept onto his face.  
He turned around, forcing Leo to release him.

“I made a promise, didn't I?”

The harbinger looked up at the hero, seemingly stunned before smiling and hugging him.  
Blót laughed softly, as something he thought had become impossible over the years began to happen.  
Something rolled down the side of his face and landed on the kid holding onto him.  
...He was crying.

...It was too late to feel regret now.  
The damage was already done, and _his_ plan had failed.  
All the countless years of planning, research, and the slow destruction of the hero's sense of self had been for nothing.  
But looking down at Leo, he couldn't help but feel something he hadn't known since he was a young child.  
Hope for the future.

 


End file.
